


Minor Miscalculations

by izumi_kamikura



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Powerplay, Yaoi, showersex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izumi_kamikura/pseuds/izumi_kamikura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which one such English receives a tropical hell chase that ends in a struggle for dominance.<br/>NSFW</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Island's Seige

You chuckled, bringing a hand to your busted lip and swiping the crusted blood from your chin. With a grunt you threw your arm over the vine constricted tree limb hanging down in your vision before adjusting your scratched glasses with muzzle of your pistol as to not lose them when you swung your body weight onto the limb. It shifted slightly, causing you to freeze mid lunge for the adjacent branch. Here you were sneaking through the considerably treacherous forest while a heinous murder stalked you and your luck was horrid enough to—  
“Englissshh?” the liquid smooth voice called, momentarily shaking you from your thoughts of impending negative consequences and instead reminding you of your survival attempts. You couldn’t pinpoint his location from the words yet you still attempted to do so. You tensed every single muscle in your body, moving your head the most imperceptible inch as to not alert him whilst scanning the trail below. Your eyes didn’t detect him at first; surprising you since he partook in no effect to conceal himself in the underbrush, choosing to allow his shock of spiked blonde hair serve as a beacon in alerting you to his presence. Or so you had thought it would.  
This specter glided through the thick underbrush of vines and tropical green leaves and fronds without as much as a trace of a sound. Taking you by surprise and never ceasing to allow you one moment of inattentive rest when survival was at hand. However now was your chance to take him by surprise and perhaps gain the upper hand. A plan sprang to mind as a smirk fitted to your features.  
You slowly lifted your hand from the branch yet untensed to steady yourself as you cocked the trusty pistol in your hand. Sweaty palms tightened their elusive grip on the dull metal along with your grimace as the click of the hammer filled the silent forest. Everything tropical was silenced by your duel, your scuffle and quarrels as if terrified that one solo tweet of a bird of paradise could simply tip the scale of your battles; crowning the victor.  
Yet he had heard the seemingly deafening click.  
And he was more than ready to make his presence known.  
Out of the corner of your eye you caught the almost indiscernible flash of one loan stream of light that had manage to break through the thick overhead canopy glint off the blade of a katana. Time to move. You had no time to hesitate even for a fraction of a second as you leaned backwards matrix style to plummet from your two story perk atop a kapok tree.  
Your freefall was interrupted by what you had more than expected, however as a fatally sharp shuriken whizzed past your chest, grazing your clavicle without millimeters to spare. You slowed your once silent descent by dashing through the enormous schefflera trees and tumbling to a back flip. The ground rushed up to meet you and with practiced precision you caught yourself on your hands to curl successfully into a barrel roll that saved you from any broken bones.  
Sustaining your victorious escape you just as fluidly rolled into a stance only faltering slightly. By now your breath was a tad bit labored as you tore through the dense brushwood off curare, epiphytes and fallen durian branches streaked with moss. For a moment you paused, scanning the dense tree canopy above you while giving yourself time to think and moreover catch your breath.  
Thinking yourself momentarily safe you quickly shoved your pistol back into your thigh sheath and adjusted their constricting hold on your form fittingly tight black shorts. You then brought that arm up to lean against a durian tree with lianas tapering up its trunk in equally as contracting binds. That was when yet another shuriken buried itself in the bark you leaned against. Right between your ring and middle finger.  
The toss astounded you; as did the precision at which it struck its target. The space between the two digits couldn’t be more than a hands breath and yet he had closed the inch with the dizzyingly sharp edge of a shuriken blade. If he had wanted to he could have severed your fingers but that wasn’t the name of this game. You swallowed turning your head towards the area of brush were the weapon must have shot from only to shoot that space a toxic glare.  
He knew he was getting close. Too close and too reckless for your entertainment. It was rather unsettling to know you were being chased by a brutal killer once he forgot or neglected his agreed limitations.  
You stood like that for the briefest jiffy, scolding him with your glower yet awaiting his immanent next move. Your hand slowly crept towards your faithful ‘rooty-tooty point and shooty’ as time slowly crawled by; inch by grievous inch. You then realized he was patiently waiting for your move, not the opposing way. Steadying yourself you slowly pulled the gun from its sheath, knowing all too well he would take this as a sign of newly acquainted offense. You couldn’t have been more correct.  
With a howl of excitement you swung around the tree, feeling the bark digging through the thin material of your emerald green T-shirt. Gun held at your side you swiftly pivoted on your heel and sprang into action. Drawing your second pistol from its sheath you cocked it too as you had its brother and leapt from the side of the once sheltering tree. You fired three round midair in the most moviesque series worthy of the silver screen before tumbling back to terra firma with a solid thump.  
You heard faintly through the splintering of bark the sound of someone cursing as you rolled to the right. Pressing your back against the roots protecting you once more you listened for more. Nothing. Not even a plea for mercy to your god-like persona as you had initially intended. Perhaps firing randomly into the jungle wasn’t as effect a strategy as you had previous thought; even if it made for movie gold.  
As if your luck could darken further you then yelped when the duel edged blade of a katana sliced into the bark of the tree mere inches above your head. As your distraction to effect you also felt the nearest pistol in your left hand being plucked from your grip ruthlessly.  
He. Didn’t. Dare.  
Boy was he being cocky today.  
“Nice try, Jake.” He hissed into your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe seductively and provoking a surprised yowl as you swung around to face him with a slight blush tingeing your cheeks. “Mister Stri-“  
But he cut you off, quickly freeing his blade from the tropical tree and swinging in the most precise X across your chest. The fabric was reduced to ribbons yet the now exposed flesh of your chest was left unharmed with only so much as two faint red lines marking their strike. You scrambled back just in the niche of time, noticing with an annoyed pang that your pistol was gripped firmly in his left hand.  
“Something—“ he paused to grunt while slicing the air in front of your threateningly before continuing with smirk. “wrong?” you ached to deliver a decent blow to his jar or a swift kick to the ass yet knew both would be ill advised.  
“Actually yes.” You shot back blocking another strike with the muzzle of your gun. He cocked an eyebrow, flashing you his prisoner—your gun—menacingly and choosing to retrieve his smartass tone. “Is that so?” he replied brushing off your round house kick as you easily deflected his jib. Now he had your blood boiling and heart racing; just like he wanted. However he had underestimated you.  
You never unsettle a proper Englishmen.  
With unmatched speed you swung your gun up to pistol whip him across the jaw, sending his anime shades and a spray of blood flying into the air. You caught the slenderest sight of an alarmed expression before he had planted his foot squarely in your chest with enough force to send you falling backwards in the rooted mud. The other gun you had flew from your grasp and landed somewhere among the vegetation as he threw your remaining weapon in the same direction.  
You faintly remembered him chuckling as you connected harshly with the horridly uneven ground. But you had no time to think about that as he just as quickly straddled your hips and pinned you arms down with his knees. You hissed with the new pain of his knees digging into your forearms as he then leaned forward to hover inches from your ear. “tsk tsk…” he sighed and nuzzled you jaw slightly before turning his attention elsewhere. You froze as one hand wrapped around the base of your throat.  
The grip he had on your windpipe was clearly threatening yet you knew to what extent he would work at for his retribution. “Was that honestly necessary, Jake?” he asked in a tone void of any emotion or intent. But his body language gave it all away. From the tight tensing of his sinewy muscles to the unmistakably threatening leer only you had caught in his words. “Of course, why wouldn’t be?” he regarded you carefully as you replied cunningly and raised an eyebrow at your audacious comeback. You were in no position to be getting smart and unnecessarily witty with your remarks.  
You couldn’t see his face but you could practically sense the amused smirk that only added to your impression of his evident amusement. He shifted his hips, digging his knees into your forearms just to hear you groan. If unnerved you that he had the current upper hand but that could be quickly changed now couldn’t it?  
Summoning your strength you took him off guard, kicking up your legs and arching your back up to unsettle his hold on you. It worked beautifully and within seconds the two of you were rolling in a scuffle over the forest floor. Grinding your teeth you bit back a shout when his knee landed between your legs in retaliation for the elbow you sent blazing into his ribs. You faintly felt the rough ground grinding uncomfortably into your back as you wrapped your legs around his waist and sent your fist into his temple.  
With a grunt he faltered slightly eyes squeezing closed and weight falling forward onto you while your hands flew to his chest. “Shit, sorry.” You breathed eyes wide and heels digging into the small of his back as he just as quickly shifted your weight upwards. The apology died in your throat when his face morphed into a mask of disapproval that was as clear as day seeing how he was on top of you and inches from your face.  
“Don’t apologize.” He challenged eyes cracking open and glaring at you through narrowed slits. You raised an eyebrow noticing the beads of sweat forming on his forehead and the way his breathing was laborious. Without a second thought you untangled your legs from his waist making sure to be excessively careful with unlocking your ankles and pushing yourself back out from under him. You noticed the way his muscles were trembling like wires pulled tight enough to snap.  
“Um, may be a bit late to ask.” You paused lightly setting your hands on his shoulder and helping him sit back. You kneeled in front of him, between his outstretched legs and put your hand to his forehead. Worry washed over you as your eyes scanned his impassive face. His skin flushed pale and sweat licked the fever that was spreading across his face. You continued even though his eyes were closed and you had no real idea if he was listening to you.  
“You have been administered the proper vaccinations, right?” he swallowed back a lump forming in his throat while giving a strained moan that only added to your concern. “Right?” you added a bit more forcefully causing him to stir slightly before answering you. “I live in the middle of the fucking ocean on a raised platform, Jake. No I haven’t had vaccinations.” His voice came out sounding strained and exhausted like merely sitting upright was a tiring endeavor for him.  
Oh god what if he had dengue fever or malaria or something ten times more serious? He had said himself he wasn’t vaccinated with anything even if those didn’t always have vaccines available. You groaned scowling at him for not telling you and not having the sense to receive the proper meds before coming to a tropical fucking jungle island. He wasn’t ignorant and you knew by the annoyed expression that seemed to underline his features that if had flitted through his mind to get them, yet he had blown it off.  
“Ok well, um, can you walk? If we get back to…oh…” you trailed off when you caught sight of his expression. It was deadly, chiseled from stone and possessing a potent grandiose. But was struck you more were the two stunning orange irises glaring at you like you were all toxic cause of fatal destruction in the world. You bit your lip, gathering that saying a word about it might provoke him further. And that might not be something he was strong enough for.  
“Here let me—“ you reached to hook a arm around his shoulder and steadily pull him into a stance that was less than favorably stable. Dismissing your previous thoughts from your mind with a desperate shake of the head you hauled most of his weight. He leaned heavily against you, something that made your concern stab nervous clenching needles into your gut. You knew what to do once you had gotten him back to the safety of your house. For gods sake you’d had malaria at least 6 times in your life so if anything he would be fine.  
The ascension through the dense forest was a painstaking and furthermore arduous undertaking that wasn’t made any easier by the fact that you were practically carrying the blonde now. Every once in a while he might mumble something faintly coherent yet alarmingly disconnected. The thought that you were leaving your pistols behind you in the jungle was shoved in the recesses of your mind as this much more sever issue presently at the forefront of your worry. Besides, you would return for them as well as his shades and katana later…  
“Mister Strider—if you don’t mind—it seems as if I’m going to have to leave you for a moment.” You said shifting his weight and mounting the first stair step unsuccessfully. With a groan you gently and tentatively as possible lowered him on the stair steps. Head lulling back on the step above him with strange eyes still closed and teeth grinding you left him; tossing one apprehensive look over your shoulder before taking the white cement steps three at a time.  
Once at the top you slammed your fist into the auto receiver furiously. “Jake mother fucking English s’the name now open this blasted door this instant!” spit flew from your lips and landed on the blinking red light seconds before a high pitched tone rang four times and it turned it green. “Access granted.” The responder answered clicking the lock out of place and sliding the impenetrable pallid door aside. Immediately the irresistibly cool AC hit you like a frozen tundra ice storm as you stepped inside the cavernous lobby.  
You wiped your hand across your brow, dispelling any grimy sweat and kicked your combat boots off onto the cream rug that lined the entrance hall while leaning against the equally as colorless countertop that spanned one side of the room as a bar. One the opposing side formed a lavish set of modern stairs that would lead up to your room as well as other exclusively interesting rooms of your humble abode.  
The automatic voice intercom welcomed you graciously but you absolutely ignored it as you raced to the nearest wash closet and waved a hand in the dark room to flip on the motion sensor lights. You then bolted to the bath-tub, hands flying to the knobs and turning them to the coldest setting available. You wet your hands in the icy water quickly before swiping it across your brow.  
Bending from your knees you just as instantly stood and turned to the open doorway, dashing through it and stumbling back into the lobby from the short hallway. “Strider!” you shouted skidding to a stop when you caught sight of him in the doorway. He was leaning against the frame face contorted in pain and conflicted annoyance at being unable to properly function in his own body.  
You ran forward catching him under the arms and guiding him through the hall. Indistinctly your ears heard the sound of the door sliding closed and the Auto locking the door back as its designated job was to do so. “Where are my shades?” he asked bringing a hand to his aching head and grimacing. You bit your lip moving sideways to maneuver through the door and to the running shower. Before he could protest you released him with a groan and shoved him backwards into the tub. He fell backwards, arms failing to catch him on the seamless ways as he splashed into the tub with a satisfying thump.  
“Same place as my pistols.” You answered slightly angered yet knowing you shouldn’t blame him. You were the one to leave them there. You watched the shiver rip through every single muscle of his body as the icy freezing water drenched his body. For the most marginal moment you saw his bizarre eyes widen and body grow rigid before he settled back into the numbingly cold water.  
It rinsed the mud and sweat from his exposed skin and cleaned the cuts your quarrel had caused. All in fun yet battle wounds were to be expected. You moved forward slowly watching his unsettling eyes close again and his head roll back onto the back wall of the tub. You bent over and then kneeled to your knees grabbing the leg that was hanging out over the edge lightly. You then gripped his muddy shoe and pulled the ruined vans from his feet before carelessly tossing them in the wastepaper basket in the corner.  
Leaning over the edge your attention then turned to his black wifebeater ripped down the side and stained with salty sweat. You could certainly loan him another new shirt, you reassured yourself ripping the soaked fabric over his head and freezing when you caught sight of his chest. No it wasn’t the well defined washboard abs that caught your attention and widened your eyes. Nope. What flared your anger and caused you to shout was the reddened flesh on the left side of his torso.  
“Dengue fever; that’s what you’ve got. A horrid rash covering your side and you thought it completely unnecessary to tell me?!” You yelled at him chucking the tankshirt behind you haphazardly behind you and cupping his jaw to turn his face towards you. His eyelids fluttered and his breath hitched in his throat.  
“Hey! Hey you! Wake up!” You shout smacking his cheek and watching his eyelids flicker open slightly and lip twitch. With and annoyed and somewhat anxious growl you rolled your emerald eyes choosing to ignore his unresponsiveness. Instead you reached for his belt making short work of the buckle and button before abruptly stopping with the most god awful blush flushing your cheeks scarlet. What did you have to be nervous over anyway?  
You weren’t doing anything excessive save for undressing your best bro—your unconscious best bro—in a bath tub getting soaked by glacier melt and here you were blushing like some eleven year old with a particularly nasty crush on infinitely famous pop star. Ugh! And if it couldn’t get worse right as you where moving to grip both sides of the tub and not giving one aerodynamic flying fuck that you were drenching yourself and the bathroom your luck had to screw over even worse.  
You pushed yourself upright bending over him and glaring down at his unconscious form for making you go to such unnecessary lengths for his health. Grunting you shifted your knees and moved your hands to grip either side of his black jeans. Turning your eyes away and knowing, knowing, that that stupid fucking blush was lighting up your cheeks like newyears you clutched the belt loops and pulled at the cons—  
“DIRK!” you forgot all your appropriately proper pleasantries about his name and screamed when his arms suddenly locked around your waist and pulled you down into the tub with surprising strength. You cried out in evident alarm as his nails dug into your back when he flipped the two of you over in the slippery bathtub and pinned you down with painful force. You struggled against his grip lashing out to no avail. There was no way to get a suitable grip on him either seeing how his bare chest was smoothed over with the bathwater and completely slippery.  
“What the hell are you doing?” he shouted looking down at you from wide eye. He was delusional; you concluded gazing at the absolutely enormous pupils that practically filled the whole of his irises. You still attempted to move out from under him and the steady stream of the sub-zero water from the showerhead however. Kicking your leg ferociously with no progress you felt his knee come between your thighs, pinning you there and insuring no further complications.  
You calmed down to register the ghastly way his whole body was trembling almost violently and how his spacey gaze seemed to be looking through you. The water cascaded in dazzlingly beads from his shoulders and falling in riveting trails onto your chest. You neglected to answer instead settling for slowly moving your left leg to brace yourself on the wall beside you and lowering the other out of the tub all together. He took no notice of your gradual escape attempts deciding rather to prop his arms above you on the sill where shampoo and other soaps usually would occupy. Except you never used this bathroom.  
“Jake.” He addressed you more as a statement rather than a question choosing to ignore your whimper when he sank lower onto your hips and brought his face inches away. Your hands clutched his belt loops even tighter wondering if he was about to do, you know, that. But for god sake you were best friends as straight as two teens could be when one was a MLP worshiping, anime loving, shitty sword collecting, robot building badass.  
You knew later he would just blow if off casually anyhow; saying he was just delusional and primal instincts had kicked in, honing in on the first choice British ass they locked in on. But god what if it just made things famously awkward? What if he decided to leave and forget the whole thing? Including you? What if you seriously screwed up and disappoint—  
“Mphm, Dir—“ you began right when he planted his mouth over yours. Every muscle in your body went rigid and you knew your eyes were probably bugging out of your head. But you simply had no idea what so ever on how to react; even when he turned his head to the side forcing your stack mouth open and inviting himself in for a spot of fucking English tea. A strained moan pushed its way from your throat as his tongue found yours with mind boggling skill.  
Mother of fuck was he an amazing kisser.  
Without warning you felt his arms move from the wall to elusively snaking their merry way around your waist. Aside from the new unhinged and unrestricted hunger beginning to change his kissing you had no other way to describe it. Just like you had no way to justify how you just as quickly began fighting back with as much intensity.  
Your arms moved to his shoulders pulling him down on top of you and clawing at the soaked skin. He gaze an electrified growl low in his throat in satisfaction with your compliance taking it as a sign to continue. He broke away for the briefest moment to grab a gasping breath of vital air before burring his face in the hollow of your throat. The intensity flowed over you as he sucked a line from your jaw to your clavicle, trouncing away the bathwater and replacing it with hot steamy pin pricks.  
You threw back your head allowing him to continue his further exploration of your trembling body whilst moving his hand to the hem of your shirt. The drenched material clung tightly to your body, shaping your sinewy abs until he decided to do otherwise. His hands pulled the fabric aside clawing up your chest and freeing the shirt from your skin. Your toes curled from your riveting craving and you arched your back to allow him to pull the green material of your shirt over your head.  
He tossed it aside without a second thought and then reached up do the same rather carelessly with your glasses. You heard them hit the tile with a clatter before your gasp drowning all thoughts and sounds. He had shifted kneel on his knees in front of you before moving around to grip your thighs from behind. He shifted your ass forwards forcefully, causing you to fling your arms out and grab the sides of the bathtub.  
“Um, maybe not yet, I uh, D-dirk would you mind—“ He apparently took not a single notion to your protests before he silencing you with a kiss deep enough to make you forget whatever the hell you were saying prior to the mind numbing snogging. You hadn’t really ever experienced anything like this savagely passionate strife for pleasure, to be honest. Even though you hadn’t actually done anything like it before. You did live on a deserted island for fucks sake.  
His hands grappled for the belt on your shorts and soon you were gripping the waistband of his jeans just to hold onto reality. In seconds your shorts were to your knees and his hands were skimming dangerously close to your other pistol making your keen at his completely unrestricted lunacy. You cried out in alarm when he did in fact show you how absolutely and supremely mad he was. In other words you could only dig your nails to his lower back when his hand wrapped around your bulge without hesitation.  
Pumping with defined expertise he continued as you desperately reached up to pull him down to you. Choking on a lung full of air, breath catching his throat you swiftly caught him off guard. Yanking down his jeans and pressing your lips to his ear you hissed impatiently, “I dare you.” He pulled away, never stopping his work on your bulge.  
He shot you that look of a desperate plea for release yet still measuring his collectiveness and seeming to sternly ask you. “Are you sure?” you only groaned in reply squeezing your eyes closed as another wave of gratification threatened to pull you under with irresistibly pleasurably consequences. That one look—mouth pulling open in a silent howl, head thrown back, and brow furrowing with impatience—seemed to be all the confirmation he required.  
Steadying his hold on you he then positioned your ass appropriately. You’d heard about the whole prepping deal and how it hurt worse than anything yet he didn’t feel the need to warn you. Apparently letting you scream in agony was more his thing than stopping to advise you on swift caution because that exactly what you did when he trust forward forcefully. You felt yourself slipping and weren’t all to astounded when he repositioned your weight shifting you upwards slightly in more ways than one.  
You just as rapidly moved to lock your legs around his hips with another cry. You felt your back sliding up the wall, keeping in time as he massaged his hips into you. Quickly you realized this would be followed by a mind numbing thrust rather than the deep manipulations. With that you kneened taking an extra breath before losing it just as suddenly to something inexplicably breathtaking that he decided to do.  
Like pushing himself deeper or disregarding the fact that you were in fact in a bathtub and that thrusting for a G-spot was horridly painful to the hips. Rather than complain, however, you gratefully complied. That odd squeaking sound of slick flesh sliding against the white sides of the tub as well as your panting was pushed from your ears as the rhythmic drumming of your heart beating past every barrier consumed your hearing. You felt the blood rushing through your veins and the hot tap water cascading onto your bare chest that he quickly decided to explore with a curious tongue.  
After giving your caution a cursory glance you tossed it aside, ignoring its pleas as his mouth forged a new trail down the center of your chest. Your fingers tangled in the blonde locks of his dampened hair while he continued his roaming. Your toes curled behind his back as he straightened up slightly, feeling that massive shiver that tramped through you in a muscle scattering camisado that raided your outer defenses.  
That accompanied by your upcoming release hit you like a ton of bricks. “f-fuck.” You gasped turning your head to the side and feeling that pressure building in your lower regions. He was none to oblivious, grinning into the sensitive flesh of your throat and speeding up his duties.  
He braced himself on the wall behind you more than ready when your heavenly release rocketed you into the stratosphere yet left a less and provoked a hair-raising cry that you swore echoed through the house. Your lip trembled, as did every other muscle and fiber in your body. The ecstasy was only intensified further as his own discharge was soon to follow yours and was swiftly stolen through the drain by the constant yet light assault of the shower head.  
He leaned forward expelling his own note of bliss while cum shot up your ass. Leaving you to your own devices he slowly and gradually pulled away. He then took you completely by surprise; leaning forward and wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you again. But this time it was entirely different. Gentle and light as air; as if he thought all the intense strife and forceful challenging was enough to shatter bone and break susceptible pretenses.  
“S-strider?” you asked voice quivering slightly as he pulled away and tentatively leaned his forehead against yours. God was he absolutely blistering! You were rather aware at the moment of the sweltering fever swathing around you that gravitated towards you from him as if by some unseen force. All pleasurable play aside, he was still ill and in need of medical attention.  
You licked you lips searching for the right words to say and wondering vehemently if he in fact understood. “I know.” he answer in reply, interrupting you and causing a deep blush to spread across you cheeks. You buried your face in the hollow of his neck hiding your face and all his betraying abilities from him.  
“I know Jake…”


	2. Disguise It

Your head—as firmly attached as it seemed to be to your equally as aching body—was positively pounding. And if it couldn’t get worse you could practically feel the wisps of fiery fever licking across your sweat glistening skin. Your shirt must have been missing. How else would the heavenly chill of a marginal breeze and the dull hum of the blades of merciful fan be detected? Even through the hazy fog that permeated your mind you could think this through. Thankfully.   
“…J-jake?” you mumble, catching your breath and licking your cotton dry chapped lips. Groaning and swallowing the non-existent moisture in your mouth you tediously stretched a quivering hand to your forehead to swipe away the glistening sweat lacing your brow. With a hiss of irritation you felt the pinprick and sore flesh of an IV needle that was just as soon ripped from your arm. Your blonde hair was plastered to your feverish skin, you noticed, as you left the hand to rest there lazily as your eyes adjusted on the ceiling.  
You counted the dull tiles on the elusively uninteresting ceiling while waiting for the dizzying spots streaking through your vision to disappear. Anything to occupy your racing mind. What the ever loving fuck had happened? First priorities. What did you remember?   
Jake. You remembered fighting with him on the southern coast of the island. Or had it been Western? That’s right, yes of course, your scuffle was on the western side as the sun had been scarcely blazing through the canopy of the tropical trees behind you as you fled the coast if was setting from. Why had you been running though? Chasing your prey or eluding the predator? You strongly considered the first as Jake seemed more comfortable with keeping a wide girth from your wicked sharp katana and the terminally lethal skills the wielder possessed.  
And what did all that convoluting useless information add up to? Shit; it told you nothing besides the fact that you weren’t completely consciously aware of your actions as you vehemently attempted to kill your best bro. Screw this. You’ve got easier methods to solving puzzles.  
It was a bit dreary; distracting yourself from the tight nerves in your gut and the pulses in your brain firing signal to your muscles to calm the fuck down and go back to sleep. Neither of which you presently intended to do as the situation craved for more curiosity fueled attention. Biting back a groan you tentatively sat up, pushing the sweat soaked sheets from your body whilst fighting off the vision blurring vertigo that constricted about your mind.   
Throwing your legs over the creaking side of the bed you braced yourself among the more solid resolve of your mentality and cautiously lowered your weight on your bare feet. The icy white tile under your naked soles sent a ragged shiver up your slouching spine causing your hands to ball into somnolent fists. Shoving all thoughts of disease from whatever alien illness that had infected your body this horridly, you pushed off the bed and unsteadily got to your feet.   
Waving a bit as your vision blurred with the sudden move you quickly scanned the room. Not a single jovial Brit in sight. Yet your acute hearing was all too keen. Moving sluggishly you made your way towards the incessantly annoying pecking of fingers ticking away at a keyboard that would sporadically be followed by an appalled whisper of hushed words.   
You briefly considered it must be English chatting with a chum via his helmet, hence the spoken typing. You’d heard all about how his technologically advanced headgear was something of his most prized possession as he had explained its workings in great detail. Everything from the speak recognition operating system to the endless library of classic films that were stored behind its emerald outer shell. You’d even offered to construct some sort of voice interface like your AutoReceiver yet he had graciously declined. Something about thinking the AR’s were absolutely maddening and not to be trusted.   
“Wait? Jane! Clearly you’ve gotten me off the hypothetical track here; no, no I’ve entirely no idea what you mean!” you smirked listening to him banter into the voice command and knowing it would type the message, however vulgar, into the pesterchum idly standing by. You vaguely wondered what it was they were quarrelling over yet the thought struck you that he may have been having one of his overly contentious days. Perfect time for you to stumble forth from an extended slumber, huh?  
“Well…I suppose so. B-but listen here! We aren’t…together. I highly doubt he would—or do you really think—?” he continued interjecting ideas that you knew Jane would shoot down in seconds. She was just nifty like that. Just as you knew Jake would formulate some preposterous notion to fire right back at her unyielding defenses. Quite the clever broad.  
Advancing further down the short hall you paused momentarily, leaning against the adjacent wall and tossing a careless look inside the den he was currently lounging in. Crossing the threshold you silently sauntered around the precariously positioned couch to stare blankly at the character occupying a dull computer chair. He seemed wholly transfixed on whatever ingenious method Jane was deploying and completely oblivious to the stalker with ‘imminent threat’ written plainly on his face.   
With a short chuckle you lightly set your hands atop the black leather of the chair and then just as quickly jerked the spiny chair around to face you. The current occupant of said chair surprisingly gave a hilariously feminine shriek of astonishment as you did so. You squandered all mercy, as you snatched the helmet off his head and was rewarded with a shocked expression of bewilderment. He latched onto your forearms that were now gripping the armrests after you had haphazardly tossed it to the side with a solid thump.   
“Mister S-strider!” He gasped when you firmly positioned your knee between his thighs, trapping him there. You leaned on that knee; careful to keep you balance as you were merely standing fully on one leg. Your additional leg was otherwise occupied with entrapping a rather flabbergasted Brit. “You’re awake.” He croaked, swallowing back some of the initial astound reaction and replacing it with a calmer façade.   
He avoided your eyes, instead clearing his throat and looking to the side. You wondered more curious than ever what you had done to warrant such an awkward response from him. What were you missing in your memory!? “Jake.” You said calmly, leaning into the exposed portion of his neck and tilting your head slightly. He froze, nails digging into your wrists as you cool breath wisped into his ear. You ignored the dull pain and continued. “What happened?”  
You demanded it in more a statement than question, needing him to understand your quailed hysteria of having a gap in your memory that stretched for god knows only how long. Not to mention how long you’d been asleep. The marginal whimper that pushed its way from his throat told you how conflicted even he was over the missing subject which only added to your disease. “English, I’d really like to recall.” You finished, lips nibbling at his earlobe and knee wedging ever so slightly further between his trembling thighs.   
“You truthfully don’t remember?” he tentatively replied shifting his weight in the chair somewhat and giving a strained yelp when it only pushed you further into him. You pulled back from his throat, instead watching as he finally met your eyes and marveled at the frank question there. You were rather certain he also gawked at your eyes but at the current moment the fact that he was actually seeing their tangerine irises wasn’t at the forefront of your mind. Besides, something told you he already knew.  
“Would I be threatening you if I did?” you hissed, snapping your mouth shut after realizing all too soon you’d shown him how venerable the lack of memory made you feel. At that his emerald eyes soften with the answer to your desperate question. He blushed at your next words again averting his eyes yet this time glancing down to avoid your unshaded eyes.   
“Did I…hurt you?” you whispered, afraid of your own words and the response he would provide for them. Your lips parted and drew in a hasty breath, ready to glean anymore information from him. Fortunately for you he seemed to decide to change his mind and indulge you with answers. He licked his lips, stealing one fleeting glimpse of your expression and clearing his throat uncomfortably again.   
“So…you mean to tell me you don’t remember what I—well that is, what we, ah, did in the shower?” in so little amount of words he had practically slapped you in the face with realization. You drew back, sucking in a quick breath and backing away from him. Putting a hand to your temple you steadied the onslaught of memories assaulting your senses.   
He’d practically carried you all the way back to his contemporary residence situated among the surrounding pumpkin patch and led you into the nearest bathroom. The showers freezing glacier melt had momentarily awakened your sanity and pulled your wits from the murky fog of fever. Although apparently not enough to realize how horridly you were screwing up.   
You remembered now all right, and now that you did you were almost having trouble accepting it. “Sex. He had sex? I vaguely recall but…Fuck Jake I-I’m sorry, I—“ he gestured wildly, throwing his hands into the air and pulling a quote of yours you scarcely remembered. “Weren’t you the one who said not to apologize?” he snapped retrieving a flaring anger and bolting up from his computer chair you had recently held him captive in.  
His green eyes blazed with a fury that was clearly underlined by a deep hurt at your words. You hadn’t meant to but you’d apparently insulted him into thinking you completely regretted fucking him. In no way whatsoever had you meant it that way, in fact the thought had yet to cross your mind. You were just concerned whether he’d volunteered to do it or not.   
“Jake, give me a minute to—“   
“Do you even fucking care?”  
“Calm down and just liste—“  
“What!? Listen to you rant on how it was merely a mistake? That you were delirious from fever and fucked the nearest ass—“  
This time it was your turn to interrupt. You quickly eliminated the space between you, a short feat as he was practically screaming in your face. A flash of alarm sparked in his eyes at your lightening advance, only to leap into astonishment when you took a much more diverse course of action than he had initial presumed.  
Your fist knotted in the front of his shirt, forcing him closer a bit more harshly than you’d intended yet still taking him by surprise. The fingers of your opposing hand grasped a healthy handful of his dark hair as you crushed your mouth against his. Lips still parted from speech you found easy to make yourself at home and explore his moist mouth with your tongue. With hands clutching at your shoulders and breath hitching wildly in his throat he then decided to kiss back.  
Fire lit your lust as if the fever had receded to the depts of your cravings, causing your make out to become a heated dominating strife between the two of you. You tilted your head to the side allowing his tongue to beg you for a deeper angle while his fingers cupped your face. Picking up on his grinding you pressed ever closer to his desperate body; answering the silent pleas to be as molded to you as physically possible.   
Without thinking your feet decided to begin gradually leading your rivalry friction to the awaiting bed. A gasp bolted through his body when you leaned him back against the threshold wall that was just as suddenly joined by your groan as you gripped his thighs. Understanding your reasoning he graciously allowed you to hoist him up on your hips, giving him the slightest moment to lock his ankles around you before pushing off the wall.   
Your lips captured his in another sweltering kiss that distracted you from the solid thump of his combat boots hitting the floor as he pushed them from his feet. The laborious breathing racking both of you filled your ears along with the rapid sound of your blood rushing quickly through your veins. Added to that was the solo intake of breath when he hurriedly ripped the grey sweater from his shoulders only to toss it to the floor behind you.   
“J-jake…” you breathed when his nails dug into shoulder blades and dragged down to your sides. The shiver that raked down your spine caused you to falter and grab the frame of the door to the bedroom. From there—that lone display of lost control—your very own management of your conduct seemed to evaporate. Growling low in your throat as if a predator had distraught its prey, you threw him onto the bed.   
He yelped eyes wide as he watched your laborious breathing and quivering muscles. God, you wanted him so bad! But would he allow you to do that which you so desperately craved after the unruly and untimely incident you caused in his bathroom? You hands tensed into tight fists as you closed your eyes and turned away from him. Your hands clawed in your hair, flexing the muscles in your shoulders. Indistinctly your ears picked up on the creak of the mattress springs as he sat up and slowly get to his bare feet.   
“I…I never said I regretted last time.” He spoke up sheepishly while placing a cold hand on your shoulder blade. Taking a small breath he then continued. “Honestly, you didn’t hurt me. I’m an adventurer, Strider. You can’t ease me off that effortlessly.” You heard the smirk behind his words moments before you turned around to face him. His eyes, emerald orbs, fixed upon your orange ones.   
“I forced you into it last time. I remember. You can’t disguise that.” You breathed when he stepped closer to set his palms on your chest. He rolled his eyes and sighed with irritation as a faint spark of annoyance lit in his eye. His eyebrows knit together and lips pursed as his temper arose. Uh-oh.  
“Fine. This time,” he paused taking a breath and staring you down fiercely. You swallowed, knowing the damage he could do even though the both of you were sadly unarmed. Nor were you exactly prepared for a fistfight. You had to admit his fighting was dirty with cheap shots bar brawl style compared to your orthodox martial arts.   
“This time I’m telling you too.” He growled, digging his nails into your chest and earning a hiss of approval as you bit your lip. With a smirk your arms snaked around his waist before he could move away. Your faces drew nearer, clarifying his lustful expression. “Well then.” You replied narrowing your eyes and raising one sculpted eyebrow when he wrapped his arms around your neck.   
Taking him off guard you suddenly grabbed his ass with one elusive hand that had deployed a midnight camisado to his choice posterior regions. You couldn’t resist nor could you help the words you hissed after he yelped in surprise. “Suck it up. I’m more of an ass man English.”


End file.
